


Drarry Drabbles

by martinnn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Bubble Bath, Domestic Fluff, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge, Dreams, Gen, M/M, Midsummer, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinnn/pseuds/martinnn
Summary: putting seven flowers under your pillow on midsummer will allow you to dream of your soulmate. it's more a swedish tradition than english but it's still adorable.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 23
Kudos: 49





	1. Seven Flowers [June 2020]

**Author's Note:**

> putting seven flowers under your pillow on midsummer will allow you to dream of your soulmate. it's more a swedish tradition than english but it's still adorable.

It's hot, but not swelteringly so. The sun is nothing more than a warming embrace. He's in a pasture of sorts and the long, yellow grass tickles the bottom of his kneecaps. Distantly, he can hear the sound of a tinkling stream, but he cannot see the source. He can smell something sweet in the air, but his limited knowledge of plants leaves him unable to name the honeyed smell. It's so serene and peaceful, like a sanctuary. Everything seems to be rose-tinted beautiful. Especially the boy in front of him. His brain won't let him construct a full solid face, but rather, like flashbulb snapshots, he sees soft platinum white hair, rosy pink lips, and steel-grey eyes that should have looked cool and distant but instead were gazing at him with such warmth, such steady embrace, that he felt his stomach swoop. He opens his mouth, prepared to say something, but a slamming sound rips him away from the scene. 10-year-old Harry awakes to the sound of his aunt banging on the door of his cupboard. He shifts and sees that one of the flowers– a yellow dandelion he’d secretly picked from the garden– had fallen out from beneath his pillow and, with a gentle sigh, he slips it back beneath with the other six.


	2. Pure Fantasy [July 2020]

By the time Draco had turned five, his mother had stopped reading him bedtime stories, castrated by his father for planting "fantasies that would never come to fruition" into his head. He didn't remember much of them, only fragments of stories about nice dragons and funny talking pots. The one he did remember, told the story of a prince. The prince was heroic, not a wizard, but magically powerful and dashingly handsome. He saved people, travelled across the world, and fell in love with a beautiful woman. Draco thought, out of all the stories, that it was the most fantastical, someone couldn't be that heroic or that charming. It wasn't until he was eleven and he met a boy with messy black hair and green eyes that he was proven wrong.


	3. Bubble Baths [February 2021]

Draco, despite his high up-keep, was never one to pamper himself. He kept himself clean, kept his outfits fresh, kept his demeanour collected, but he never really pampered himself. At least not in the way Harry did. Having never gotten the chance to have nice lavish things in his childhood, Harry absolutely revelled in all things indulgent. In foods and in clothes and outings. His favourite of course was bubble baths. It was not uncommon for Draco to come home to find his husband lounging in their deep, porcelain tub, wandless magic making whirlpools of bubbles swirl around him. He’d often have some calm music playing that Draco had never heard before, but Harry would know all the lyrics. Sometimes he’d have a book floating in front of him, other times he’d just be lying with his eyes closed. Each and every time Draco would pause in the doorway of the bathroom, watching quietly, letting his husband have his moment. And each and every time Harry would eventually sense eyes on him. He would crane his head back, bubbles caught in the stubble on his jaw. He’d blink lazily at him, a smile creeping on his face. “Care to join me?” He’d ask and typically Draco would say no. He’d feel too gross in his work robes to mess up Harry’s relaxing little sphere. But the few times he did say yes, Harry’s eyes would darken with delight as he disrobed. Draco would roll his eyes, but let himself be pulled into the tub. He didn’t like to admit it, but it was nice to sit with his back to Harry’s chest in the soapy water. At least until his fingers pruned up.


End file.
